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Chapter 12
Jill
* * *
When I’m finally back home from the hospital, I go straight to my room and lock the door. I don’t come down—not for dinner, or breakfast, or my parents, or school. Nothing.
I’m scared.
Scared of what might happen if I do.
Because that warning didn’t come without a cost.
Someone must pay the price for Liam being declared dead.
Me.
I shiver as I hear my parents’ footsteps stomp up the stairs. They’re headed straight for my room.
I jump away from the door and huddle on my bed before they slam their fists against the door. I was never this scared before. But I guess sometimes trauma changes a person.
Especially when that trauma is connected to mafia families and their need for revenge.
“Jill? Open the door,” my mother says.
I don’t respond. I don’t know what to say, and I’m terrified I’ll say the wrong thing.
“Jill, open this door. This is your last warning,” my father says with that stern voice of his that makes my skin crawl.
“No,” I reply.
“Jill!” my mother gasps.
“Enough,” my father barks. He shoves something into the lock and unlocks it from the outside. They burst inside, furious. “You don’t think I keep spare keys to all the doors in my own damn house?”
I swallow away the lump in my throat. “I’m sorry. Please.”
My father slams the door shut and then looks at me. “We need to talk.”
Oh, God.
Here it is.
The talk.
The one I’ve been trying to avoid. Because I’ve heard them whisper in the hallways about my punishment. But I don’t deserve any of this. I didn’t kill Liam on purpose.
“Please, you don’t have to do this,” I say, shaking my head.
“Jill …” my mother mutters. “You know we have to. You’re going to have to marry Luca.”
“No, he’s a monster, don’t you see it? He’ll destroy me for killing his brother.”
But her face remains unmoving.
Did she ever care at all?
“Please …” I mutter.
My mother simply looks at my father and then turns around. “I’ll leave her to you.”
“Mom!” I yell, but she ignores me as she walks out and shuts the door behind her.
“Jill.” My father commands my attention. “You will marry Luca.”
No, no, no, this can’t be happening. I was supposed to marry Liam.
“Please, don’t force me to do this. You don’t know what he’s like,” I plead with him.
“You did this to yourself, Jill,” he rebukes. “You made the decision to jump into that car and drag the son you were supposed to marry straight into his death. You think I wanted this?” He’s all up in my face right now, yelling like it hurts him more than it hurts me. “You’re my daughter, and it is my job to ensure the De Vos family gets what they’re owed. This is the price to pay for what you did.”
“But it was an accident,” I say, but my voice sounds more like that of a mouse. Tiny. As small as I feel right now.
“Every action has a consequence,” he replies. “You made your choice. Now I’m making mine.”
“But why? Can’t we offer them something else? Money? More power?”
SLAP!
My father’s strike to my face doesn’t register until the sizzle of pain follows.
“You think money will bring back the dead?” he scoffs.
I shake my head and shove him away, running straight for the window through which Luca once climbed up into my room. Now, more than ever, do I wish I never let him in. Not into my room nor my body. Because those eyes, those fingers, those lips … destroyed everything I ever held dear.
But before I can say anything else, my father has already grabbed my wrists and put cuffs on them. “Don’t try anything. It won’t work. They’re waiting for you.”
Luca
* * *
The second our car pulls up to her house, my heart begins to palpitate. I sink into my seat and lower the window to watch my parents get out and meet out front with Hugo Baas, who is standing near the road at the edge of their property. They talk for a moment, and then a guard comes closer, pushing someone forward. A girl in a hoodie and tight leggings with her hands shackled behind her back.
My father approaches her and pulls the hoodie down.
Jill’s face isn’t kind or sweet anymore.
All I see is rage.
And it stirs something inside me that I didn’t know existed.
But the second her eyes connect with mine, they turn to shame. And it’s almost as if she’s pleading with me for this to stop.
As if I ever had a say in this to begin with.
I take a deep breath and look away while my parents finish up whatever business they have with Hugo Baas. When they finally approach the car, she’s in their hands, her eyes stained with tears. They push her forward, each step she takes reluctant. Her eyes skittishly move from left to right as though she’s contemplating whether or not to run.
